HeartShaped Glasses
by Tokki-Trigger1995
Summary: Three months ago, he was happy and he was with her. An accident took her away, and left him with something more than he could ever imagine. Rated for language.


**Author's Note: **Okay, so I guess I need an explanation as to why I'm posting another one-shot even though 'Bloom' has yet to be completed, but I don't have one. At all. Unless you count writer's block as an excuse, but I highly doubt that. Anywho, I thought of this fun little one-shot after getting a pair of bright red, heart-shaped glasses from Hot Topic and thought it'd be fun to throw it into a song fic, so here it is! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Although I do own a pair of bright red, heart-shaped glasses, I do not own the characters, Yu-Gi-Oh! or the song 'Heart-Shaped Glasses' by Marilyn Manson. This is a fan fiction and is not used to gain any kind of profit.**  


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**Heart-Shaped Glasses  
**

He wasn't scared right now. Of course he wasn't. He was never scared before a performance. If anything, it jump started an adrenaline rush so strong that he was bouncing off the walls.

But for some reason, he wasn't in the mood tonight. He was a little nervous. That was really the only thing anybody could really call him.

It wasn't because a girl that looked a little like someone he knew a long time ago showed up to another one of his band's performances. That wasn't it at all.

It wasn't just because she looked like _her._ They didn't even look that much alike, anyway. Just because they had the same short, chocolate-colored hair and pale ivory skin meant nothing. Nothing at all.

_She _would have never shown up in the exact same white dress and bright red heart-shaped glasses for six nights in a row. _She _would've hated to stand out like this girl was doing now.

Besides, _she _died three months ago.

_She reminds me of the one in school when I was cut  
And she was dressed in white  
And I couldn't take my eyes off her  
But that's not what I took off that night._

He knew this girl wasn't a ghost because he could feel her. When he crashed into her four nights ago, she was solid, and her voice didn't echo when she gave a polite "Excuse me." _She _would've clocked him in the chin for crashing into her.

He knew _she _didn't come back from the dead because when he went to go visit her grave, nothing was out of the ordinary, not a blade of grass moved out of place.

He wondered who this new girl was, and what exactly she needed from him. And, most importantly, why she reminded him so much of _her. _They gave him the same feeling, yet he could never imagine this girl's arms wrapped around him from behind while riding on his motorcycle in a leather jacket and a pair of tight blue jeans.

He couldn't imagine _her _sitting in the back of the club watching him perform and calmly rejecting every guy that tried to hit on her or buy her a drink.

This girl, whoever she was, needed to stop messing with his head.

_And she'll never cover up what we did with her dress.  
She said, "Kiss me. It'll heal, but it won't forget."  
"Kiss me. It'll heal, but it won't forget."_

She felt dangerous to him for some reason. Like he was walking on a tight rope every time he got near her. Like one mistake would forever decide his future with her.

He didn't understand why he was so cautious about where he ended up with her. He didn't even know her name, or what color her eyes were beneath those glasses.

Unlike _her, _where he felt her sapphire-blue eyes follow him everywhere. Before and after the accident.

He didn't mean to get hit by a car with her riding with him. He didn't know the light was going to turn red so quickly.

He never apologized to her parents before then, and they never looked at him with such accusing eyes either.

But this girl, oh this girl, made him feel like his whole entire being depended on her. Like she was the one to decide his fate.

_I don't mind you keeping me on pins and needles  
If I could stick to you and you stick me too._

As he got on stage, he looked straight at her, challenging whoever the hell she was. He wore his 'holier-than-thou' smirk and his eyes glared hard into her tinted lenses.

She just gazed back, the expression in her eyes unidentifiable behind her damned heart-shaped glasses. It upset him.

She just continued to stare in his general direction, and he was still unable to tell whether she was looking at him or his band mate, or if she was looking at anything at all.

He gave her an even more intense glare, much more cursing than the one he gave moment ago.

And then she smiled at him, and it broke his heart. How dare she have the same smile as _her_! How could she just curl up the ends of her full, red lips and look just like_ her?_

It was hard for him to admit it to himself, but it broke his heart. It hurt that it was so easy to look like the woman he cherished so dearly like it was nothing. It hurt how he could think anyone could be as beautiful as _her. _It hurt him to think that he could ever betray her.

He wanted to tear those mocking, bright red glasses off of her eyes and make her look at him. Look him straight in the eye so he could prove to himself that this girl wasn't _her. _He wanted to see her for who she really was and look at the eyes that were really hers.

But he doubted he could.

_Don't break, don't break my heart  
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses  
Little girl, little girl you should close your eyes  
That blue is getting me high_

Why does she have to look so much like _her_? Why couldn't she just look like some other nameless girl watching their performance? Why can he feel her gaze suffocating him like there's no tomorrow even though he can't even see her eyes?

He ignores the trembling of his body as he plays chord after chord and sings note after note. Wait a minute.

Is she _smirking _at him? Is she honestly mocking him right now? And with the same exact smirk _she _used to use too! Why were they so alike?

It wasn't fair. It really wasn't.

How could she hurt him without so much as looking at him?

_Don't break, don't break my heart  
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses  
Little girl, little girl, you should close your eyes  
That blue is making me high  
Making me low_

She really shouldn't be toying with him anymore. It wasn't like he ever did anything to deserve this.

He didn't know the truck driver was under the influence, and that the lights were so fast. He didn't know that she wouldn't want to take his helmet and break her promise not to die.

It wasn't his fault. No matter who accused him, or what her family said.

He knew it didn't happen on purpose.

Why did it still feel like this out-of-it girl was accusing him on something she had no idea about?

He just keeps playing chords and goes on singing, attempting to drown out every image that girl somehow managed to plant in his mind with only a look.

Her smirk doesn't fade till the end of the song.

_She reminds me of the one I knew  
The cut up negatives of my life  
And I couldn't take my hands off her  
She wouldn't let me anywhere but inside_

He walked off the stage, successfully ignoring the loud squeals of his fan girls as he slipped out of his black denim jacket.

"You okay, man?" his friend asks, noticing his band leader's odd behavior.

"I'm fine," he says gruffly, running a hand though his hair, "Just kinda out of it right now."

"We can tell," chimes his drummer, rolling his eyes, "Hey, it's that girl again!"

"What girl?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"That girl with the glasses," the drummer responds, pointing to the back of the club, "That one, in the white dress."

"Ah, I see her," the bassist says, nodding his head, "She's been here lately. She kinda reminds me of-"

"Don't you dare," the bandleader hisses, narrowing his eyes threateningly, "Don't you dare say she reminds you of _her._"

"Sorry," his friend says, putting his hands up defensively, "But it's been three months. It's over and she's gone."

_I don't mind you keeping me on pins and needles  
If I could stick to you and you could stick me too_

He storms over to the bar to get a drink of water, reminding himself that it's against his morals to drink anymore.

"You don't drink?" says a familiar voice next to him, and he stops himself from turning around and saying _her _name, "I never would've guessed."

His eyes widen, and he realizes she sounds just like _her._ What other similarities did the two have that he didn't know about?

"What do you want?" he asks, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

"Nothing," she smirks as he opens his eyes to look at her. Her bright red heart-shaped glasses are still covering her eyes, and the lenses so darkly tinted that he can't tell if her eyes are open or not, even from right in front of her. "You just seemed like the kinda guy that liked to drink, and I felt like having one."

"Not anymore," he says bitterly, squeezing his water bottle in his hand, "I quit."

"Did you now?" she questions, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, "Why'd you go and do that?"

"Drunk driver killed my girlfriend," he mumbles out, taking another sip from his water, "And the helmet didn't save her."

"Of course it didn't," the girl chides, looking at him with an obvious look on her face, "Helmets are supposed to lessen the blow. Not save someone's life."

"Who the hell do you think you are, speaking the same way as her?" he hisses, narrowing his eyes at the girl before him, "It's not fair."

"What?" she asks, both eyebrows raised in mild surprise, "I remind you of your girlfriend?"

"Just barely," he says, denying every single thought he's had about them being similar, "She hates the color white." He gestures to her dress. "She prefers stars." He eyes her glasses. "And her eyes are blue."

"And how exactly are you so sure my eyes aren't blue?" she asks, a smirk gracing her ever-familiar features.

_Don't break, don't break my heart  
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses  
Little girl, little girl, you should close your eyes  
That blue is making me high_

"Are they?" he asks, raising one of his eyebrows at her, "Your glasses always in the way and I've never been able to tell."

"Maybe you'll never know," she teases, shrugging her shoulders playfully, "Give me a reason to show you."

He smirks at her invitation, and takes a step closer to her. He realizes why he's so drawn to her.

She's the girl in the back of the club that watches his band while smirking behind her heart-shaped glasses, but she's also the girl that fearlessly rejects all advantages towards her politely without being afraid of causing a scene. The same girl that looks at him with challenging eyes, competing with his gaze the same way _she_ did.

They were completely the same, but completely different.

"Is that it?" she asks, challenging him and taking a step closer to his body, "You seemed a little more daring than that."

He ignores the pounding in his chest and feels her body heat in waves. He puts a hand at the small of her back and presses her body flush against his own.

"That's more like it," she says, smirking, "This is exactly how I thought you'd really be."

_Don't break, don't break my heart  
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses  
Little girl, little girl, you should close your eyes  
That blue is making me high  
Making me low_

"So why don't you tell me more about that girlfriend of yours?" she asks, and he tries not to step back from her and walk away.

"She's dead," he replies bitterly, and the words leave a vile taste in his mouth, "Has been for three months."

"Now, that's not long at all," she replies, her fingers trailing up his arms. Her touch is like liquid fire, leaving little tingling sensations behind wherever she touches him.

"Isn't it?" he asks, leaning in closer to the girl in front of him. Their breath mingles, and he's so close that he can smell her strawberry and vanilla scent. It intoxicates him and drives him to near insanity.

"No," she smiles, and he can't see her expression behind those damned glasses.

_She'll never cover up what we did with her dress  
She said, "Kiss me. It'll heal, but it won't forget."  
"Kiss me. It'll heal, but it won't forget."_

He closes the gap in between them, his lips firmly pressed against hers. Her taste crashes into his senses, and he wonders why he feels like he's kissing _her._

But soon it doesn't matter and she kisses back and wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into her.

He pulls her as close as he can, as if trying to keep her from some unknown force trying to wrench her away.

They need to remind themselves they need air and pull away from each other, lips slightly red and a bit swollen, their heart rates threatening to tear from their rib cages and their breaths coming out in ragged gulps.

"Wow," he says, stepping away from her and trying to calm his throbbing heart, "Wow."

_I don't mind you keeping me one pins and needles  
If I could stick to you and you could stick me too_

"I have to go," she says, and before he can stop her, she turns on her heel and walks away.

"Hey, wait!" he calls after her, trying to keep up, "Don't leave yet!"

"I can't stay!" he hears her yell back, and he remembers when _she _first told him that.

Just who the hell was this girl?

"At least tell me your name!" he yells, reaching out for her. His fingers brush against hers and leave a shock of electricity down his spine.

"I'm sorry, Seto!" she says, moving faster away from him.

He slows down a bit. He never introduced himself to her.

How the hell did she know his name?

_Don't break, don't break my heart  
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses  
Little girl, little girl, you should close your eyes  
That blue is making me high_

He picks up speed, determined to find out just who that girl is.

If only he could get her glasses off…

"Who the hell are you?" he yells, finally grabbing her arms and making her face him, "How the fuck did you know my name?"

"Let me go!" she yells, trying to get loose, "It hurts!"

_Don't break, don't break my heart  
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses  
Little girl, little girl, you should close your eyes  
That blue is making my high  
Making me low_

He tears her bright red heart-shaped glasses off her eyes, and his breath catches in his throat as realization strikes him hard.

They look exactly the same. The same hair, same face, and same mole on their right cheek bone and… and….

Her eyes are _green_.

_That blue is making me high  
Making me low._

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_**Author's Note: **I bet you like the ending, huh? ;)

Don't forget to review and stay tuned for the next installment of 'Bloom'!

Tokki Trigger, BOUNCIN'!


End file.
